


Fae Jaskier

by pillage_and_lute



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Ciri Has Two Dads, Fae Jaskier | Dandelion, Found Family, M/M, one of them is an unseelie horror, the other smells of onions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:02:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27750478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pillage_and_lute/pseuds/pillage_and_lute
Summary: This was a request, but it's one of my favorite things I've written so I posted it separate of my ask collection.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 10
Kudos: 224





	Fae Jaskier

**Author's Note:**

> "I’m always a slut for fae or dragon jaskier! Just this incredibly powerful immortal being that’s full on obsessed by this stinky Witcher that has all the social abilities of a feral cat."
> 
> Request from an Anon on Tumblr

Geralt ran through the woods, Ciri was barely keeping up so he hoisted her into his arms and sprinted towards a clearing. One giant spider was one thing, but he’d stumbled into a nest. He could do it, but not while protecting Ciri too.

The clearing held a ring of standing stones, three times the height of a man. A large flat rock in the middle was perhaps a meter off the ground. Geralt leapt onto it, hoping higher ground would help.

He turned to fight, pushing Ciri behind him on the stone, but the spiders had stopped at the edge of the clearing. They were chattering unhappily, backing away uneasily.

Then they fled. 

The fine summer day was suddenly overcome with swirling clouds. Shadow figures, each ten feet tall or more leached from the stones and advanced. A horrible roaring, not heard through conventional means but appearing in the ears fully formed throbbed in his eardrums. The shadows came closer and the noise blended slowly. It wasn’t words, but the meaning was clear.

Ours. The shadows cried, getting more solid as they stepped forward. Horns and glowing eyes. Some had more than two eyes, some only one large one. One of them had three sets of horns. 

Ours. They roared. Ours. Our stones. Our people. Stay. Ours.

Ciri shrunk into Geralt’s side and shoved her face into his chest.

Jaskier appeared behind them.

MINE

He roared in the unseelie tongue. Geralt didn’t need to turn around, he’d seen this before, but he looked anyway.

Ten feet tall and made of flowing shadow and pieces of black stone. Mildewing moss, almost black with decay in patches across his body. Jaskier stretched out one long thin arm in front, palm outward. The other arm curled around Geralt and Ciri, crouching to do so. Long fingers with sharp, black nails latched onto Geralt’s shoulder. He looked up at the face, which was looking outward.

MINE

Jaskier called again. His eyes glowed brighter. They weren’t eyes like eyeballs and lashes. It was as if someone had torn three eye-shaped slashes in reality and whatever was beyond was glowing. Jaskier opened his mouth. It hadn’t existed a moment ago but the skin, for want of a better word, split open, sharp teeth of the same shadow black were silhouetted against an open mouth filled with glowing nothing.

Jaskier snapped open his wings, a fifty foot wingspan of living shadow blocked out the sun.

THEY ARE MINE

Jaskier screamed. Parts of Geralt wanted to liquify under the feeling but that wasn’t intended for him so thankfully, he didn’t. The fae fled. 

Daylight returned and Jaskier folded his wings back in. 

“Dandelion” Ciri said, flinging her arms around his shadow neck and clinging. “Thank you, perfect timing!”

of course my dear 

appeared in their ears.

“Perhaps your seelie form?” Geralt suggested. “If you aren’t feeling quite up to looking human yet.”

fine

There was a pout in the not-voice. Jaskier shrunk down to only about six and a half feet tall and mostly his normal look. THe added height stretched him a little, rather than keeping preportions, so he looked sort of willowy, and his skin was a little paler, with grey-green tints were humans might be pink. Black lips and raven’s wings and curling black ram’s horns adorned his head. There was also some parts that were a covered in bark and moss, and there was a ring of red and white toadstools, growing from his hair like a flower crown.

Thankfully, his eyes were back to two and their normal color, although they glowed slightly.

“Really Geralt,” he said. “I’ve told you about standing stones, haven’t I?”

“Yes dear,” Geralt said, giving him a kiss. It tasted only a very small bit like mushrooms. “But I chose between you rescuing us or the spiders.”

“What would have happened if they got us?” asked Ciri.

Jaskier sat and pulled her into his lap. “They would have taken you away to the court, and been fed from your soul. You would stay there a year and a day and they’d let you go.”

“That isn’t very long.”

“When you came back home it would have been a hundred years or more, time flows differently there, and you would be a very old woman, probably close to death.”

“Oh,” Ciri said. Jaskier kissed the back of her head. 

“It’ll never happen,” he said, leaning in as Geralt put an arm around his shoulders. “Every fae knows that the ones in this world have dibs. I’ve got claim to you to feed from and they can’t take you. Even if they tried they couldn’t get you through to our world.”

“What do you feed on?” Ciri said, reaching up and stroking her finger along one curling horn. 

“Love,” Jaskier said, leaning his head down so she could feel better. “It’s always better if whatever we feed on is freely given, makes us stronger, that’s why I can stay here and turn human. Just people liking my music is usually enough.” Here he grinned, it was a little sharper than usual. “But you both love me so much, I might be the most powerful fae this side of the veil.”

He slid off the stone, a ring of mushrooms erupting when his feet hit the ground, and he set Ciri carefully on the ground. Geralt jumped down next to him, then blinked, and Jaskier looked human. Geralt held a hand with lute callouses and no claws as they walked off, and Ciri brushed a bit of moss off Jaskier’s doublet.

“What happens,” Geralt said. “If the love runs out?”

“Are you going to stop loving me anytime soon?” Jaskier asked, smiling up at him in the sunshine.

“Never,” Geralt said, and kissed him.


End file.
